


Pit Stops in Hammerhead

by fooltook



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Developing Friendships, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-08 18:29:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12870465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fooltook/pseuds/fooltook
Summary: A series of drabbles about Cindy getting to know her most loyal customers, particularly Prompto, during their frequent stops at Hammerhead.





	1. Migraine

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me, I'm rusty! It's been years since I wrote or published fic, so I'm easing into it with mostly fluffy drabbles centred on Cindy and her dealings with the bros, in particular her friendship with Prompto.

Cindy gets used to the sight of the Regalia, what with the way the boys are always coming and going for hunts and deliveries and constant repair work. She shudders to think of how they must handle that poor car out on the highway. Still, it’s not like the gorgeous thing is an eyesore, and they’re a sweet bunch, and they keep the shop in business, that’s for sure. 

She does worry about them some, though.

“You really think this is the best place for someone with a migraine?” Cindy asks again, quite sure the prince must not know what one is. “Pawpaw’s gonna be working on that truck all day, and there ain’t much sound proofin’ in the caravan.”

Noctis grimaces at her. “I know, it’s not ideal. We were trying to get to a campsite, but we can’t keep him in the car anymore. He’s thrown up twice already.”

Cindy looks over his shoulder at the Regalia, finds Ignis crouched patiently by the passenger door while Prompto leans miserably over a bucket in his lap. A local farmer whizzes by in his pick-up, honking the horn in a routine greeting, and she looks away as the poor boy jerks forward again.

Noctis sighs. “Three times.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Maybe I can find some earmuffs out back.”

By the time she’s rummaged through several cluttered containers and come up with some a sealed pack of bright yellow ear plugs, the Regalia is empty but for Gladiolus leaning over the seats and liberally spraying the leather with air freshener. She bristles, has half a mind to give him a piece of hers, but decides her ear plugs delivery is currently more important. She shakes her head as she trots over to the caravan. Coming to an auto repair shop for peace and quiet is no better than approaching a voretooth for a game of fetch. 

Ignis at least seems to have a lick of sense, as he’s drawn the blinds and shut off the lights, and turned on the little box fan on the counter. When she pads quietly up the steps, she’s glad to see Prompto already sprawled on a bunk with a wet cloth over his eyes and forehead, and Noctis in the process of taking off Prompto’s heavy boots. 

“Noct, I can do it,” Prompto’s mumbling, head lolling to the side.

“I know, buddy,” Noctis replies, voice appropriately soft but filled with a warmth she’s not heard from him before, not really. It suits him. “Let me help though, 'kay?”

Ignis greets her with a polite nod, and he gratefully accepts the ear plugs. “Our thanks. These will do him a world of good.”

“Sure hope so,” she agrees, hushed. “Won’t do much for the heavy machinery, but I’ll talk to Pawpaw, see if he can’t keep it down a little. In the meantime, y’all can feel free to set up shop in Takka’s place if you like. I’m sure he’d be happy to let you use his kitchen too, to keep the noise down in here.”

“Thank you, Ms Aurum, I may do just that,” Ignis replies, smiling at her in thanks. 

“Cindy’s just fine,” she tells him firmly, or as firmly as she can with a whisper. “Now, I’ll leave you to look after your friend. I need to go teach the big fella a lesson in caring for fancy leather seats.”

Before she closes the caravan door, she hears a vaguely distressed groan followed by a slurred but high-pitched protest. 

“Noct!”

“Prom, you’ll be more comfortable--“

“Do _not_ take my pants off while Cindy’s in here!”

She tries but doesn’t quite manage to stifle a laugh as she takes her leave.


	2. Car Wash

She’s elbows-deep in an engine for most of the morning, which is probably why she doesn’t notice they’ve got company until she’s startled by the sound of a heavy, metallic-sounding crash, followed by Pawpaw’s raised voice.

Alarmed, she extricates herself and jogs to the entrance of the garage, half expecting to find herself at the scene of a minor car accident. She’s relieved, mostly, to see Gladiolus chasing Prompto away from an upturned toolbox and a collapsed metal shelf, contents spilling over the asphalt. 

Pawpaw turns to her with a scowl, gestures with his wrench at the boys as he talks. “You make sure those punks clean this up, Cindy. I’ll be on break ‘til they leave. Gods-damned hooligans.”

She nods solemnly, only smiling when he passes her. “You got it, Pawpaw.”

Gladio and Prompto are still chasing each other around near the caravan, and the prince is nowhere to be seen, but Ignis is leaning against the Regalia, face hidden by one long hand, and she approaches him first. He looks up when he hears her, and looks so intensely weary that she laughs. 

“Long day, is it?”

He sighs heavily. “I’m terribly sorry. They’ll be cleaning that up, of course.”

“They sure will,” she agrees cheerfully. “What exactly happened?”

Ignis rubs at his forehead. “Gladio made the ill-advised decision to pick Prompto up. The mess is the product of the resulting flailing and kicking.”

From the other side of the compound, they hear a shriek. Gladiolus has finally caught up and has Prompto in a headlock. Cindy snorts. _Boys_ “Well, what can I do for you while we wait for the violence to end? Also, where’s the prince?”

Ignis inclines his head, and Cindy’s startled to see Noctis curled up in the backseat, fast asleep. 

“He slept through that racket?” she asks, amazed.

Ignis huffs softly. “He’s slept through far worse, and those two waging a war over the last can of soda isn’t unusual. In any case, we’re not here to trouble you. Well, any more than we already have. The Regalia’s in top shape.”

She can’t disagree, although it’s looking a little dusty and mud-flecked for her taste. Still, a car like that should be driven, not left sitting around looking shiny. 

“To be quite frank, we don’t even need gas,” Ignis goes on. “I just needed an excuse for a five-minute reprieve from those two.”

Cindy grins, turning back to watch the still-ongoing wrestling match. “I guess I can understand that. They seem like they’d wear you out right quick.”

“They try,” Ignis mutters. 

“Sure you don’t need a longer break?” she asks. “Maybe after they’re done cleaning, I can rope them into giving the Regalia a wash for me. Tire ‘em out some.”

Ignis tilts his head at her, a small smile forming on his typically solemn face. “You know, I do believe you’re onto something.”

*

Later, having sent Ignis to have a peaceful coffee break at Takka’s, Cindy watches on discreetly while she tinkers nearby with a broken-down sedan. Gladiolus strips out of his shirt, which she assumes is likely meant to be for her benefit, and Prompto hits him square in the chest with a sopping wet sponge. The overly vigorous wash job ends up waking the prince eventually, to his vocal displeasure, when a spray from the hose douses his hair and shirt, and she does her best to keep her face flat and disinterested while he whines extensively about his ruined hair. He ends up stealing the hose and teaming up with Prompto, doing their level best to drown the big fella, but somehow or other the car does end up clean before any blood is shed. Though not before a small crowd has gathered, and ultimately Ignis has to put a stop to the battle by appearing and glaring them all into submission. 

Once the supplies are put away and the crowd has dispersed, Ignis sends the others to dry off, and comes over to apologize once again for the commotion. 

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” she tells him, smiling. “Not every day you get to see a royal water fight.”

“There’s probably a reason for that,” Ignis says despairingly. 

Eventually Noctis slumps back into his seat, waving an arm at her in farewell, already yawning again. She waves back, amused. Prompto follows soon after, chirping out a cheery goodbye to her while he clambers back into the front of the car, and she smiles, certain he at least won’t be dropping off into a nap anytime soon. Gladiolus though appears relaxed as he reappears, pausing to fetch a hardcover book out of the trunk before he settles in. 

“Sorry for all the noise, Cindy,” he calls warmly. “C’mon, Iggy, we’re wasting daylight.”

Ignis makes a faintly aggrieved sound next to her, and she grins at him. “Good luck out there, Ignis.”

“I’m sure I need it,” he sighs. “Sorry again to disturb you all.”

She waves a hand at him, dismissive. “It’s nice to have a break once in a while. Come back any time! Plenty more cars that need cleanin’, you know.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Ignis chuckles.


	3. Hot Chocolate

There’s light coming from over by the caravan, and it’s late enough that it gives her pause, makes her double back to peer over from across the stretch of driveway. One of the boys is sitting at the rickety little plastic table set, lantern lit, while the others sleep. 

Squinting through the light drizzle, she’s certain it’s Prompto. She fancies she can see the blonde hair against the dirty-white of the caravan. 

She glances at the clock again - almost half past one - and turns, heading for the kitchenette instead of her bedroom. She likes to keep a stock of hot chocolate powders for late nights, hidden away from Pawpaw’s sweet tooth, and she’d even bartered some instant coffee for a little bag of marshmallows a few weeks back from a passing trader. It’s not cold out, not really, but the damp and the cool breeze are perfectly good excuses for some late-night cocoa. 

She sticks close to the buildings as she walks over to the caravan, protected from the rain under the awnings, which is possibly why Prompto doesn’t see her until her boot scuffs at the ground just a few feet from him. He startles, badly, and when his head jerks up she winces at his red, puffy eyes.

“Sorry, hon,” she says softly, only coming closer to get out of the rain. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.” She thought he’d seen her, honestly. As she’s approached, she thought he’d been looking at photos on his camera, but up close she can see the screen has long since gone black. Clearly he was in another world, and likely not a nice one. 

“No, that, that’s okay,” he stammers, ducking his head briefly to rub briskly at his face. “I-I didn’t notice you, is all.” He sets his camera down on the table and straightens a little, looking up at her with an unconvincing smile and eyes that won’t meet her own.  
“You’re up late.”

“Well, sometimes I don’t sleep well,” she admits. “So I stay up workin’ for a while. Usually cap off the night with hot chocolate.” She carefully waggles the mugs in her hands, drawing attention to them. “I saw the light, thought you might like some.”

“Really?” Prompto asks, eyes wide, like she’d offered him the stars. “For me?”

“For you,” she agrees, reaching across the table to hold the mug out to him. It’s a slightly chipped old thing with a cactuar pattern, but she doesn’t think he minds. “Hope you like marshmallows.”

“Who doesn’t?” he says, cupping the mug carefully in his hands and holding it under his face, cradling it for warmth. He smiles at her again, much more himself this time. “Thank you, Cindy. This is so nice of you.”

She smiles back, and settles down into a chair when he pushes one out for her. “It was nothing. Sometimes you just need a hot drink, you know?”

He nods, dropping his gaze to consider the mess of melting marshmallows in his mug. “Yeah.” He blows on the drink before taking a sip, then hums in surprise. “Wow. No joke, this is the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had!”

She laughs, mindful not to be too loud and wake his friends. “Come on now, it’s just powder.” She takes a sip of her own, noting the familiar, cheap waxy texture and slightly sickly sweetness of the marshmallows. 

He grins. “Then you’re a miracle worker, because this is delicious.”

She’s hit with a burst of affection for him. He’s not trying his hand at flirting, or even looking at her with the big adoring puppy dog eyes he used the first few times they met. He’s just being sweet, despite having a rough night, and she’s doubly glad she came out to join him. 

“Think maybe you’ve just been on the road a while, forgotten what real food tastes like,” she teases. 

He snorts. “Don’t let Iggy hear you say that. Hey, you probably haven’t tried his cooking yet. I guess we usually eat at Takka’s while we’re here.” He takes another sip, making another appreciative sound in his throat. “Next time we’re here, I’ll ask him to cook and you guys can join us. Seriously, the guy’s a food wizard.”

“Well, bring it on,” she agrees. 

“But I guess you’re right, too,” he admits, swirling the chocolate with a finger. “We mostly stick to coffee on the road. Probably haven’t had hot chocolate since back in Insomnia.” He smiles faintly, eyes a little distant. “Noct used to make it for us in his apartment. He _always_ burnt it, like, every time, but we always finished it. It’s like our tradition after--” He snaps his mouth shut abruptly, cheeks flushing a little. “It, I mean. You know, he tried so hard to make it perfect every time, I didn’t wanna hurt his feelings, even if he thought it tasted like garbage too.”

She smirks. “Y’all are real close, huh?”

The flush gets darker, and he busies himself with another, longer sip of his drink.

“I just meant it’s nice,” she adds quickly, forcing down a giggle. She stretches out her legs, sets down her drink, and sighs. “It’s good you’ve got each other out here, with everything that’s happened.” She pauses, considering. “You didn’t… if you don’t mind me asking, that is, everything’s okay with you four? You’re not out here all alone because of one of ‘em?”

He glances up, shaking his head immediately. “No, no. Nah, we’re all good. I, um.” He hesitates, reaching up to tug fitfully at the loose hair at the back of his neck. “I just. Sometimes I have trouble sleeping too. I’m not really… used to all this. It can be a little overwhelming, I guess.” He frowns. “I didn’t wanna disturb them with… this.” He gestures loosely at himself. 

That’s not surprising, she supposes. Poor kid, first time out of the big city and he lands in this mess. She deliberates for a moment, and then reaches across the gap between them to squeeze his hand. His fingers twitch under hers a little, sharply, before he relaxes and grasps hers back for a moment before letting go. 

“No shame in being overwhelmed,” she says gently. “I bet your friends are too. Astrals, I can’t sleep sometimes, and I live my steady life here in Hammerhead.”

Prompto frowns at her. “It doesn’t matter what your circumstances are, it doesn’t mean you have it any easier.”

She smiles. Gods, but he’s a sweet kid. “I know. I just mean I’m sure they understand.” She pauses, considering. “And you should probably tell them if you keep not sleeping well. I made the mistake of working a job after a few bad nights, few years back now, and Pawpaw was _not_ pleased with the outcome.”

Prompto chuckles softly. “No heavy machinery after no sleep, got it.” 

That’s not exactly a promise to talk to his friends, but she’ll take it. She’s not his keeper, after all, and Pawpaw would tell her to mind her own business, no question. She leans back in her chair, reaches for her mug again. She thinks about what helps her feel drowsy when her mind won’t stop racing, and decides it isn’t talking about the source of her anxiety. That’s better for daylight, when everything’s a bit brighter and louder and less intimidating. Her gaze falls on the camera, a pretty, shiny thing, and she inclines her head at it when Prompto makes an enquiring noise. “I don’t think I’ve seen you without that. I bet you have quite the collection on there.”

He blushes again, but he looks almost pleased this time, more relaxed. “I’ve gone through a few data cards,” he admits, smiling lopsidedly. “Someone has to document the trip! Noct thinks I’m just documenting all the times he falls on his ass.” 

She laughs. “Would it be against some kind of law if I asked to see those photos?”

“Not if we don’t tell him,” he grins. He hesitates a little, just briefly, but he scoops up the camera and moves his chair closer, holding it out for her to take. Up close, his face looks a little better, skin less pale and eyes less red and damp, and he looks genuinely amused as he taps through to the requested album folder for her. She resists the urge to ruffle his fluffy hair, though she dearly wants to. 

Maybe hot chocolate and a distraction isn’t a cure all, but she at least feels better for some company over lying pointlessly in bed, and she hopes this is better for Prompto too, better than sitting alone in the dark and the rain. 

“This was just down the road,” Prompto’s telling her, voice hushed as though he’s afraid the prince will hear what he’s doing and come out to extract vengeance. “I was trying to take a cool action pose though, honest.”

She risks a glance at the image, hopes her involuntary laugh doesn’t come back to haunt her. “Oh no, that’s not a flattering look at all. Cool action pose, huh? I’m sure that’s what you told him, anyway.”

“I was!” 

He yawns after a few photos, belatedly reaching up to cover his mouth as he taps through the album, and it’s not long before she feels an urge to do the same.


End file.
